


The More Things Change…

by Katsala



Series: A Boy Named Danny Moony [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Dialogue Light, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts as a Minor Character, POV Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 21:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16860475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsala/pseuds/Katsala
Summary: …the more they stay the same.Harry Potter does not go to Hogwarts in 1991. The world keeps turning anyway.





	The More Things Change…

Harry Potter does not go to Hogwarts in 1991. People talk about him anyway, the Boy-Who-Lived and the Boy-Who-Vanished. There’s a minority of people who believe he never existed at all.

 

Hermione is halfway through Flavius Fancourt’s 600-page book on the subject when a meek, trembling boy knocks on the door to her train compartment so quietly that she almost doesn’t hear it. Neither of the other two girls- fifth year Ravenclaws, as she’d gathered from listening in on them talking- in the compartment look up from their conversation on carrier pigeons, but Hermione has always had a soft spot for small, unwanted things, so she slides in a bookmark and opens the door.

 

“Have you seen a toad?” he asks with a wavering voice, wringing his hands. “I think I’ve lost mine.”

 

“No, sorry,” Hermione says, and watches as he crumples even further in on himself. She’ll finish her book later, she decides, as she asks, “Would you like help looking?”

 

He gazes at her like she’d just hung the stars. She may find it just a touch too gratifying. “I’m Neville,” he tells her. “Neville Longbottom.”

 

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione says briskly as she pushes out the door into the hallway. “It’s a pleasure.”

 

They pass six cars, each one giving no sign of a toad or a shit to give, until they come across a compartment empty except for a gangly red headed boy chewing dispassionately at a corned beef sandwich.

 

“I haven’t seen him, sorry,” the boy says. “Would you like more help looking? I’ve got nothing better to do. I’m Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley.”

 

So then there’s three of them, up and down the train until they finally stop at Hogwarts. Then, of course, Neville spots Trevor the toad hopping towards freedom in the direction of Hogsmeade. Hermione watches the boys bolt after him, caught between personal loyalty and following the rules.

 

She quickly comes to the conclusion that if she leaves them on their own it will be an even bigger disaster than it’s already shaping up to be, and so runs after them in the name of being responsible.

 

 

There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and, it turns out, getting locked inside the Shrieking Shack while searching for a toad and causing the formation of a search party is one of them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harry Potter does not go to Hogwarts in 1991. When Draco Malfoy steals Neville’s Remembrall, Ron Weasley is the one to mount a broom to try and save it. The Remembrall shatters on impact with the ground, as does Malfoy’s ankle; Ron gets a dislocated shoulder. They both get detention.

 

Two weeks later, a second year student named Primrose Edwardson gets the position of Gryffindor Seeker after a series of unimpressive tryouts. Eventually, after practice and hard work, she proves to be a valuable member of the team.

 

Neville looks happier than either Ron or Hermione have ever seen him, so they figure it’s worth it. That’s why, when Malfoy shows up to challenge Ron to a duel, Ron punches him in the nose and Hermione only lectures him for a hour.

 

 

 

 

Hermione is not crying in the bathroom when the troll escapes. (Hogwarts doesn’t care. Hogwarts needs results, and if they haven’t found Fluffy yet then by God they’re going to. If you pump enough magic into a building it winds up like that, sometimes, transcending space and time and morality until it drives out the evil inside.)

 

Ron is preoccupied with finishing his last bite of mashed potatoes, Hermione is preoccupied with running through every statistic on trolls she’s ever learned, and Neville would never leave without them. They lag behind when Percy rounds up all of Gryffindor House to lead them back to the dorms.

 

The staircases move. The staircase that Ron, Hermione and Neville are on moves them right up to the Third Floor Corridor. The Forbidden Corridor. The Corridor That Is Out-Of-Bounds To Anyone Who Does Not Wish To Did A Painful Death.

 

Hermione freezes in panic, Neville looks to be contemplating jumping over the railing, and Ron grabs both of their arms and pulls them further down the corridor, because there’s no sense in just standing there waiting to be attacked, is there?

 

He changes his tune once he sees the three-headed dog.

 

 

Luckily, Professor Snape chooses that moment to show up and Stupefy the slavering beast. Unluckily, they get three hundred points taken from Gryffindor. You win some, you lose some.

 

 

 

 

When Ron shows no sign of letting go of the mystery they’ve discovered, Neville suggests asking Hagrid about the Cerberus. They’d served enough detentions with him by now to know he loves big, dangerous things.

 

(He’s a bit like Hermione in that way, though she won’t understand it for a very long time.)

 

Hagrid, in turn, puts his foot in his mouth. What’s underneath the trap door is no one’s business but Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel. The dog’s name is Fluffy and he’s really quite a sweetheart, actually, the trick is that if you play him music then he’ll go right to sleep. And yeah, Snape’s a git, but-

 

He cuts off when Ron starts laughing and kicks them out of his house, grumbling about nosy little brats. The sternness is undercut when he hands Neville three pieces of treacle fudge for them to eat on the way back to the castle.

 

 

 

 

Fluffy is already sleeping when they once again brave the third floor corridor. The enchanted harp strums as they pass through the trapdoor.

 

When the reach the Devil’s Snare, Hermione freezes up, desperately chanting pneumonic devices from Herbology to herself, but Neville remembers it’s weaknesses instantly. The flames he summons are a bit weaker than someone else might have done, and they smell strongly of eggs, but it gets the job done.

 

To pass the room with the flying keys, Ron climbs onto the allotted broom and chases the correct key into Neville’s robes, which have been turned into a makeshift net and held aloft by a series of well-placed Wingardium Leviosas from Hermione.

 

They have to leave Ron behind in the chess room. With both Neville and Hermione’s strength combined they manage to drag him into a corner, out of sight from anything that might come after him, like a mountain troll or an evil teacher. Neville squeezes Hermione’s hand, and they move forward.

 

When they reach Snape’s puzzle, there’s only one mouthful of potion to allow someone to safely pass through the flames into the last room. Hermione looks at Neville, still small but no longer unwanted, and for a moment she considers giving him the potion.

 

He shakes his head. “You’re the brightest witch of our age, Hermione. You’ll beat Snape easy. I’ll take care of Ron.”

 

“You two are the best friends I’ve ever had,” she tells him. She hugs him and drinks the potion.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione Granger walks into the final chamber, wand drawn, and sets her eyes on Quirinus Quirrell.

 

“Hello, Miss Granger,” he says, voice hard and stutter gone.

 

Hermione resists the urge to curse in front of a teacher. “Of course. It all makes sense now.” The troll, the strange conversations between him and Snape, the faltering stutter…

 

“I suppose it does.” He turns back to the large, ornate mirror standing in middle of the room. “What do you see, when you look at its depths?”

 

Hermione looks, and gasps quietly.

 

She sees herself, older and wiser and with much less bushy hair. She’s sitting at a mahogany desk- it’s not clear where exactly she works, but she knows it’s important. On full display are her Nobel Peace Prize and her Order of Merlin, First Class. On the wall behind her hang framed diplomas for every subject Hermione can think of. Sitting on her desk is a craggy, fist-sized red stone faintly glowing with a warm, inviting light. It was no wonder she’d accomplished so much, with the stone providing immortality.

 

“I- I’ve learned everything. I know everything.”

 

Professor Quirrell smiles at her. “You’re a very predictable young woman, Miss Granger.”

 

That smile chills her to the bone. Lazily, Professor Quirrell reaches for his wand.

 

She can’t fight him in a duel; he’s a teacher, far more experienced than she is. She needs something else, some kind of weapon, but the room is empty- empty except for-

 

“Avada-“

 

“ACCIO!”

 

The mirror comes flying at them with almost deadly intent, slamming into Professor Quirrell first before ramming into Hermione. She finds herself bowled over, and her head hits the ground with a mighty ‘smack.’ A broken piece of glass cuts into her cheek, slicing deep. She whimpers, but manages to wriggle our from under the mirror and the professor. She curls up on the floor a few feet away, trying to staunch the bleeding.   

 

And then…

 

“You have made a powerful enemy, Miss Granger.”

 

The voice feels like a grater going down her spine. She shudders and watches as a black mist rises up from the professor’s unmoving body. She watches it take the shape of a skull, which opens its jaw to reveal a curling snake.

 

Hermione’s head crunches softly against the glass-covered floor as the dark, clinging tendrils of unconsciousness overtake her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Professor Quirrell didn’t die. Not physically, at least. When he was taken to St. Mungo’s and his cuts and bruises were patched up, the healers noted it appeared almost as if he had been Kissed by a Dementor. Having a parasite abandon your broken body by ripping itself off your soul will do that.

 

Hermione Granger woke up to a Hospital Wing filled with every single book from the Hogwarts Library, courtesy of Fred and George Weasley. They also brought Ron and Neville each a chocolate frog.

 

Madam Pomfrey tried to fix the scar on her cheek, but it was too deep and too magical to fix up all the way. Years from now, the Daily Prophet would run an article that if you stared at it for long enough you could see your heart’s desire, but that would come later. For now, when her parents asked, she told them she tripped during a walk around the lake and sliced it open on a rock. They took her shoe shopping the next day and bought her boots with the best tread they could find, and she almost cried. She brushed her teeth four times a day that summer to make up lying.

 

“Well,” her mother says, wringing her hands, “did you at least make friends?”

 

Hermione smiles. “The very best friends, Mum. The very best.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yo. If you see any glaring mistakes such as spelling or grammar errors, let me know, this whole thing is un-beta-ed.
> 
> Updated as of 6/27/19 for clarity.


End file.
